Twisted Survivor
by mr. eff
Summary: Inside the mind of Genevieve Gage six years later.


Disclaimer: I own nothing

Warning: Mentions of rape, no details. If you can't stomach the thought of a rape victim enjoying her rape/kidnapping years after it happened, then hit the backspace button.

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It had been two years since her father had gone after and killed Carleton Hendricks, a.k.a. Captain Howdy.

That made it six years from the time she had been lured into his trap, kidnapped, and then raped.

He raped her so many times in so many ways that she had lost track.

He took her body and desecrated it with his personal ampallang and with needles. Many, many needles…piercing her skin, making new holes, giving her tiny, unwanted scars.

In the beginning, right after she was found, she used to stand in the mirror and stare at her body, filled with shame at the way she was used and abused. All the pinpoint of scars marred her body and filled her with a sense of disgust.

She used to cry herself to sleep at night, praying that she would wake up from her nightmare and never have had this happen to her. As hard as she tried, she never woke up.

She was never the same after that.

For years, after the incident, she had gone to therapy. She used to go 5 days a week for a few months. Then when she was improving, it was reduced to 3 days a week. Then shorter and shorter until now, six years later, it was once every two months. She could call and schedule extra appointments or an immediate one if she needed it.

In that time, she went back to school and continued her studies. She focused on her schoolwork instead of boys and parties like the rest of her friends, who never understood why she stopped hanging out with them. They would never understand what it's like to be held captive and forced to endure things, unable to scream in fear that the stitches across her lips would tear her open. They would never understand what it was like to live in fear; that one day he would come back and take her again. They would never understand what it was like to be a victim.

Twenty-one-year-old Genevieve Gage was a victim, but she was a survivor.

But like any survivor, she didn't walk away unscathed.

Physically, she had the scars to remind her of her ordeal. They faded in time and now, they were hardly visible unless someone got up close and really stared at her skin, which never happened.

Emotionally, she was relatively okay. Confused, ashamed, but basically okay, unlike her previous mental instability when she was first free.

Mentally, she was scarred. The constant fear gave way to rampant paranoia. After he was captured, she felt safe but when he was freed, she was terrified. Her father had wanted to check her into a hospital for fear of her mental instability, and also to protect her further, but she had refused, convincing him that her captor would never come back and that she had to think of her future, instead of her past. But when he died, she was free from him physically. He visited her in her nightmares and often left her crying out in middle of the night to be comforted by her dad.

Those nightmares soon became nuisances, then dreams, then…fantasies.

She would never admit it to anyone, not in a million years, but the young college student survivor found herself fascinated, and maybe even a little aroused, by her ordeal. She could do without the whole held-against-the-will-and-kept-in-a-cage-and-have-the-mouth-sewn-shut part but she felt an undeniable attraction to the loss of control that she had.

Half the times when she was pierced, she didn't feel as much pain as she had when she was first taken. It was even erotic at times.

She guessed that remembering those emotions led to her confusion and her shame of herself but there was nothing she could do about it. As much as she tried to free herself of these feelings, thoughts, and fantasies and try to dream about finding Prince Charming, being swept off her feet, married, have babies, and then die happy, she could not.

Instead she fantasized about heavy drums and guitars, synthesized voices and an electric keyboard playing. Lyrics of bile just spewing out of someone's distorted mouth. And someone…someone taking her, making her relinquish all control, and doing things to her body that many would disapprove of. Making her feel pain and turn that into the pleasure she could only dream about. Dark lights and blurry images with a screaming orgasm mixed with blood and other bodily fluids. Needles prodding…poking…scarring…destroying. Ravaged in all states of the body and the mind.

Genevieve understood that rape victims were often left afraid of sexual encounters or that a darker part of the human mind secretly wanted it to happen. The darkest part of her soul came out when it happened and now she was left changed.

On the outside, she was the same. She dressed ordinary and behaved according to the social norm.

But on the inside, she became just like him.

She became a twisted survivor.


End file.
